You had the underdog Bulls
playing without their two best players against the most famous
NBA team
since Jordan's Bulls. You had the best player in 20 years at the
peak of his powers. You had a national TV audience and
unparalleled stakes: Miami approaching an unapproachable record,
the smell of history looming over everything, real greatness in
the air. You had an intensely proud Bulls team hoping to turn
that game into a street fight (1980s basketball, reincarnated),
as well as a genius defensive coach who understood exactly how to
beat Miami (or at the very least, make them sweat out no. 28).
And you had Chicago's spectacular crowd, one of the few
old-school NBA fan bases left that (a) understood the stakes, (b)
would never sell their tickets on StubHub
to Miami fans, and (c) knew from experience exactly how to affect
such a game.

I can't remember watching an NBA regular-season game that felt
like a Game 7 before.